


Cocktober 11: Kidnapping AKA Sir Eggsby von Cockington

by Glitter_Bug



Series: Domestic Boys [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oh it's almost entirely fluffly, Swearing, There's an argument, but it's small and quick and just leads to more fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Bug/pseuds/Glitter_Bug
Summary: It all started with Steve Harrington's little cock.As soon as he'd laid eyes on it, Billy had needed it in his hands. Couldn't rest until Steve sighed and rolled his eyes and finally let him hold it.“Aww Stevie, it's so cute!" Billy gave it a little stroke, ran his thumb gently over its head."It's adorable!" Billy gave it a firm squeeze and absolutely howled with laughter when it let out a pathetic little squeak."It’s the sweetest thing I've ever seen," Billy grinned, “shoulda known my boyfriend would have the prettiest cock of them all!” and Steve snatched the little rubber rooster keyring back out of his hands.“Shut up,” Steve grumbled, throwing the keychain back onto his dresser where it landed with a clatter, “Robin got it for me.”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Domestic Boys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974355
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93
Collections: Cocktober Prompt Meme





	Cocktober 11: Kidnapping AKA Sir Eggsby von Cockington

**Author's Note:**

> Another silly little Cocktober fic, I'm having loads of fun with these one shots!
> 
> As per usual, barely proof read and thrown together at the last minute! 
> 
> I really can't think of any other warnings...but lemme know if I've missed something.

It all started with Steve Harrington's little cock.

As soon as he'd laid eyes on it, Billy had needed it in his hands. Couldn't rest until Steve sighed and rolled his eyes and finally let him hold it.

“Aww Stevie, it's so cute!" Billy gave it a little stroke, ran his thumb gently over its head.

"It's adorable!" Billy gave it a firm squeeze and absolutely howled with laughter when it let out a pathetic little squeak.

"It’s the sweetest thing I've ever seen," Billy grinned, “shoulda known my boyfriend would have the prettiest cock of them all!” and Steve snatched the little rubber rooster keyring back out of his hands.

“Shut up,” Steve grumbled, throwing the keychain back onto his dresser where it landed with a clatter, “Robin got it for me.”

She had. She’d gotten fed up with him always forgetting the keys to Family Video, always leaving them in his other jacket or not noticing them drop out of his pocket when he took off his jeans for the night. So she’d bought him the little chicken keyring, made up a whole story about Sir Eggsby von Cockington and how distraught he would be if Steve lost him, if Steve left him behind when he set off for work, how Sir Eggsby would cry and squawk and peck his own feathers out in distress if Steve dared to leave the house without him, and did Steve really want that on his conscience?   
And Steve had moaned at her, had sulked and pouted and said that he wasn’t a child and he didn’t need some dumb little toy.  
But apparently, giving Steve’s responsibilities a name and a sad little backstory worked and he’d never forgotten the keys since he’d slipped them onto Sir Eggsby’s little metal ring.   
So Sir Eggsby stayed.   
Sat pride of place on the dresser, right next to Steve’s array of hair products, so that he would always be visible even to a sleepy, bleary-eyed Steve Harrington. 

Until the morning after Billy had been round. The morning after Billy had sat on the bed and admired Steve’s little squeaky friend. The morning when Sir Eggsby had disappeared.

And _normally_ Steve would’ve just blamed himself. Would’ve assumed he’d been a _dingus_ like usual and lost the keyring in the chaos that was his bedroom. Would’ve wasted a good twenty minutes searching through pockets and under his blankets and retracing his steps before admitting defeat and letting Robin showcase her patented _‘I Told You So’_ smug face while she horrified him with all the ways that poor Sir Eggsby von Cockington would be suffering at being forgotten like this.

But, for once, Steve knew that he was not to blame. Had the evidence to prove it. Because although Sir Eggsby was missing in action, the store keys were there, in their usual place next to the Farah Fawcett spray. Keyringless. And as wonderful as Sir Eggsby was, Steve knew even he couldn’t magic himself away and leave the keys behind.

Nope, this was the work of someone else. Someone cunning and sly and with a mischievous streak a mile wide.

And Steve had a prime suspect in mind. 

****

He didn’t have long to wait before he got to interrogate his boyfriend. Billy sauntered into Family Video as usual during his lunch hour, still wiping engine oil from his hands and dropping the dirty rag on the counter.

“Did you kidnap Sir Eggsby?” Steve tried to make his accusation sound serious. He leaned right into Billy’s space and put on his best menacing face. Billy ruined the whole thing slightly by closing the distance between them and booping Steve’s nose.

“I plead the fifth,” he grinned, "I know my rights. I refuse to speak without a lawyer present."

The door clattered shut as Robin came in, two take out cups of coffee in her hands.

"Is this some weird role play thing?" she asked, looking between Billy and Steve, "because I'm pretty sure I've warned you about doing that kinda stuff in the store already."

“Robin,” Steve whined, flashing her with his best puppy-dog eyes, “he kidnapped Sir Eggsby. I know it.”  
“You’ve got no proof Harrington,” Billy smirked back, “Can’t hold me without the evidence.”

“I thought you liked it when I held you,” Steve tilted his head and turned his big doe eyes back on Billy, “And you were fawning all over him last night and now he’s gone. You were the last person to see him. So, yeah, you’re a suspect.”

“Gonna have to do better than that sweetheart,” Billy grinned, licking his lips “You need some good, _hard_ evidence if you’re gonna take me in.” He made a suggestive gesture downwards, tongue darting out between his lips.

“Oh for God’s sake, you two are sickening. This is not workplace appropriate." Robin slammed her coffee cup down on the counter, "And I can see the damn chicken from here,” she reached down to the back pocket of Billy’s jeans and tugged out Sir Eggsby- throwing him over to Steve who whooped and caught him one handed, “those jeans leave nothing to the imagination, Hargrove.”

“Just how Stevie likes it,” Billy grinned, wiggling his ass, “You get a good feel back there Buckles?” 

Robin made a gagging sound, “Honestly Bills, if I wasn’t gay before...” and she darted out of the way before he could give her a shove.

From then on, Eggsby's kidnapping became a regular occurrence. Billy would find a way to steal him away from Steve’s room whenever he could, would unhook the store keys and stash the chicken somewhere-in a pocket, a sock, and on one memorable occasion nestled securely into his hair- and try to smuggle him out of Steve’s house. And Steve would try his hardest to stop it. Would frisk Billy before he left for the night- a game that quite often led to them both falling back into bed together; or Steve would try to keep Eggsby hidden safely in his own pockets or socks or hair- which just led to Billy getting handsy, Steve getting naked and Eggsby getting kidnapped once more. 

But then one night they had an argument.

A big one.

And they'd argued before, of course they had, but this one was _bad_. 

Steve had been snippy.

Billy had been angry.

They'd both said things that crossed lines. Words designed to hurt, aimed at other’s weakest points and hammered in with venom.

And so Steve had told Billy to get out.

And Billy had. Had snatched up his jacket and marched straight out of the room, slamming the door so hard that Steve felt the judder in his bones.

As soon as his ears had stopped ringing, Steve sat down on his bed. Pulled his knees up to his chest and let his head slump down on them. Squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the cold, clenching swirl in his stomach, tried to ignore the little voice chanting in his head, the one that said 'your fault' and 'never enough' and 'bullshit'. 

He gritted his teeth as rage simmered through him. How dare Billy? How _dare_ he? 

A few moments later, there was a shuffle outside of Steve’s door. A pacing. A pad of hesitant footsteps and then an even more hesitant knock. 

Billy was _never_ hesitant.

Billy _never_ knocked. 

Billy barged in and announced his presence and took up all the space he could. He was loud and assured and confident, and even when he wasn’t, he _acted_ like he was. 

It was this, more than anything, that made Steve glance up, made him call out in a gruff voice, “What?”

“Steve?” Billy's voice was timid as stepped into the room, his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Did I fuck it all up?” 

And Steve looked up at him, saw the vulnerability, the fear, the pain in his eyes and felt his rage ebb down instantly. He opened his arms in a reflex, an involuntary move. Responding to Billy’s need before he even had to think about it.

“No baby, no of course not.”

Billy crossed the distance between them in a flash, falling into Steve’s arms and burying his face against his shoulder. Steve could feel the wetness of tears against his neck, could feel Billy shaking with sobs, could hear the frantic, whispered apologies spilling from Billy’s mouth. 

“Shh, shh Bill. It’s ok, we’re ok. I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean it.” Steve held him tighter, pressed his lips into his hair. 

“Me neither,” Billy mumbled into Steve’s sweater, then pulled back to look him in the eye. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t think that baby, I don’t.”

“We both...we both fucked up, ok?” Steve pulled Billy close again, “So it cancels out. It goes away. Like, uh, like Math...I think. I wasn’t really listening. But I think that means it didn’t happen. So we’re OK.”

Billy laughed, a watery rumble, and wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him just as firmly as Steve had held him before. 

They stayed like that for a while. Safe. Warm. Comforted.  
  


And then Steve started to feel Billy’s hand slipping away from his back, could feel Billy lean slightly towards the nightstand. He saw, from the corner of his eye, Billy’s hand sneaking out to make a grab for the keyring.

Steve shot his own hand out to stop him.

“You asshole, you just came back for Eggsby,” and Billy snatched his hand back quickly, his eyes scanning Steve’s face, his expression melting into a smile when he noticed Steve’s grin.

“Sir Eggsby you mean, and _of course_ I did. It’s my turn to have him.”

“Your turn?” 

“Yeah, my night with him. Part of the custody agreement.”

“When did he become our child?” Steve had schooled his face back into a serious expression, but he could feel the bubble of laughter about to break through at the sheer absurd turn the conversation had taken, “And hey! When did we get divorced?”

“I’m a wild one baby, I can’t be tied down.” Billy tossed his hair back, grinning so wide that his eyes were crinkling in the corners.

Steve tilted his head with a knowing look, “ _Definitely_ not what you said last week,” he smirked, grabbing hold of Billy’s wrists with a firm grip, a wicked flash in his eyes, “From what I remember, you quite enjoyed the tying down…”

And, yeah, they were OK. 

It was a few weeks later that Billy was slipping out of Steve’s bedroom, hair mussed and body sated and with his jacket pocket surprisingly Sir Eggsby-less. He searched through his other pocked and patted himself down. 

Nothing. 

There was a deliberate cough from behind him, and Billy whirled around to look at Steve, sitting up in bed and holding the chicken aloft, a silver set of keys dangling in the air.

“Are you missing something?” Steve walked over to Billy, twirling the keychain around on his finger, “You’re getting sloppy in your old age, Bill.”

Steve threw Sir Eggsby over to Billy, who caught him easily.

“I don’t need the dumb store keys, you know I only want you for your cock,” Billy grinned, his fingernails scrabbling to detach the keys. Steve closed his hand over Billy’s, stopped him.

“They’re not the store keys,” he said, his voice warm but serious, “Billy, look at me.”

Billy did. Blue eyes meeting brown. 

Steve cleared his throat. “Uh, ok, er, my uncle...my uncle passed away a few months ago.” 

Billy opened his mouth, started to speak, so Steve squeezed his hand and carried on quickly. “It’s OK, he was old, it was peaceful. I’m not...I’m not upset. Not really. He, uh, he was really nice though. Liked me a lot. Probably more than my own-” Steve shook his head, “it doesn’t matter. He never married. Never had kids. I wonder if he was like...us. Maybe. But, uh, _shit,_ I’m not doing this right. _”_ Steve stopped, shook his head again. Reached out for Billy’s other hand and threaded their fingers together.

“I just found out that he left everything he had to me. It’s not a lot, he wasn’t rich or anything, but he had a house. In Chicago. So, yeah, now _I_ have a house in Chicago. Legally and everything.” Steve’s smile grew a little, “And it’s not a big place. But it’s near a lake and it’s nice, you’d, uh, you’d like the kitchen. And there's a garage for the Camaro…"

Billy’s eyes widened suddenly, and he looked down at the keychain in his hand, at the set of keys dangling from it. 

“Steve?” Billy’s voice was a little croaky, “What are you-?

“You wanna live with me?” Steve asked. He could feel his heart hammering.

Billy didn’t speak.   
  


Steve watched as his throat bobbed a couple of times, and then he nodded.

Once slowly, and then a few more times a little bit faster. He found his voice.

“Yeah, yeah Steve. Of course, of course I fucking do. If...if you want me there?”

“Well, you’re eighteen now, right? No one can stop you. And I figured it would be nice if we didn’t have to worry about a curfew anymore. Would be nice to sleep together, and wake up together and...be together.”

“Did you just kinda quote The Beach Boys at me?” Billy’s smile was wide, his eyes misty.

Steve grinned at him, “Brian Wilson said it best. And anyway, it’s not just for you. I was thinking that Sir Eggsby needs a stable home. It’s not fair for him to keep being shunted around like this. He’s gonna get issues.” 

Billy’s grinned, and he gave Sir Eggsby a little kiss on the tiny red comb atop his head. “Oh Stevie, with the things that this guy has seen, he’s _definitely_ got issues.” 


End file.
